


What Happens in Nar Shaddaa...

by mitchan



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: M/M, Porn with Feelings, Xenophilia, basically porn with some plot, kalluzeb - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitchan/pseuds/mitchan
Summary: Zeb and Agent Kallus meet for the first time in a secret interspecies club in Nar Shaddaa. But the club and the world outside are two very different realities.(Basically an excuse for Kalluzeb porn)





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this weeks ago and I'm posting the first part as a way to force myself to stop editing obsessively, keep writing and finish this fic. Un-beta'ed. Constructive feedback is always welcome!

Behind a hidden door in a shabby cantina in one of the seedier districts of Nar Shaddaa, there was an exclusive club few in the galaxy knew about. Controlled by a little-known group of free-thinking but ruthless ex-pirates, the 4 Hearts Club prided itself in being one of the safest places in the Known Galaxy for any type of interspecies encounters.

The rules were simple, told to each new member the first time they were introduced to the Club: respect others’ interests as well as their refusals. You can always say no. And most importantly, absolutely no business allowed. Whoever you were, you had to leave your life, along with any weapons, at the entrance.

Very surprisingly for a cantina in Nar Shaddaa, everyone followed the rules. After all, you could only break them once.

Perhaps it was thanks to these rules that the Club thrived, maintaining an open and friendly atmosphere, with old friends chatting at the bar while newcomers were taken out for a dance and flirted with, all without fear or reservations. Rebuffs were accepted lightly and carefully forgotten. Even species known for their love of violence had been seen turning their backs on a disagreement.

This atmosphere is what kept Zeb coming back, years after he’d been introduced to the Club by an acquaintance during his days as a useless vagrant and drunk. Sometimes he was looking for a hookup. Sometimes he just appreciated drinking in a relaxed atmosphere, surrounded by friendly chatter and flirting.

That day, Zeb looked up from his drink to lock eyes with a human sitting opposite him, on the other side of the round bar. He raised an eyebrow at the stranger, who quickly looked away… only to look back a little afterwards, as if he couldn’t help it.

Zeb raised his glass at the stranger in acknowledgement.

He wasn’t surprised when the human stood up and walked up to him. Lasats, now a rare sight in the Galaxy, were never seen in the Club, and he attracted a fair share of admirers and curious people of all species, which usually meant he could pick and choose his hookups.

He was still sizing up the stranger – male, neatly combed hair and trimmed beard, dressed like a Coruscanti trader – when he sat down beside him and ordered two of what the Lasat was drinking.

“That’s not exactly Corellian wine,” Zeb warned, and couldn’t help a snicker as the man spat out the pulpy, strong liquor Zeb had been nursing. He patted him lightly on the back as the man sputtered and coughed.

“First time at the Club?” Zeb asked, as the man quieted down and looked quite embarrassed.

“Second time, actually. First time on my own,” the man said.

“How d’you like it?” Zeb asked idly.

The man looked around, gaze lingering on a Rodian and an Ortolan dancing very close to each other– a sight that would be mind-boggling on any other place but this.

“It’s… unique,” the man said, expression closed off.

 Zeb offered a small smile. “Relax. Safe space, remember? You don’t have to hide in here,” he said.

The man smiled back, a bit bitterly. “That’s what they said,” he replied.

“Listen, I know you’re dying to ask the question. Go for it,” said Zeb, with a flirty look.

The man turned to face Zeb. “I haven’t seen a Lasat in a long time. How… How did you survive?” he blurted out.

Zeb was taken aback. Most of the people he met in the cantina usually asked about something more… biological. But the man was a newbie- perhaps he wasn’t yet aware of the myths told about different species.

“Long story short, I was lucky. So, tell me, what are you looking for? I know some people. I can make introductions,” Zeb offered, deftly changing the topic.

The man apparently sensed his unwillingness to talk about Lasan, and he inclined his head thoughtfully. “Well… I guess I’m partial to males, but apart from that… I’m willing to experiment,” he said, and there was heavy intent behind his smile.

He got small dimples when he smiled, noted Zeb. He was quite attractive and exuded a quiet confidence, even in an obviously unfamiliar environment.

With a last gulp, Zeb finished his drink.

“You ever had a Lasat before?” Zeb asked.

The man put down his drink carefully on the counter, and looked at him with a searching gaze. “No. But I’d wondered,” he replied.

“Would you like to go up to my room, then?” Zeb offered.

The man hesitated for just a second. Then he said, “Yes,” and got up from the stool so fast he swayed on his feet. Zeb stretched out a hand to keep him steady, chuckling.

 

In the small room, lit by a rose-tinted lamp, the man seemed to lose his bravado, standing awkwardly while Zeb removed his combat suit and left it on the floor.

“Having second thoughts?” Zeb asked.

The man shook his head and took off his boots, tunic and pants, while Zeb sat down on the bed.

“Come here then,” Zeb said, and pulled him into his lap as soon as he was close enough.

Close up, the man had the build of a warrior, which was incongruous with his trader’s attire. His chest was dotted with tufts of copper hair, unlike the smoothness of a Twi’lek’s or a Togruta’s skin, but it felt pleasant to the touch. The man ran his hands through Zeb’s chest and shoulders, feeling the short fur that was coarse in some places and silky-soft in others, such as his belly and neck. Zeb gently pressed his lips and teeth over the man’s neck, mouthing softly downwards. Humans enjoyed that, and indeed, the man shivered and moaned at the feel of Zeb’s coarse tongue and the scratch of his sharp teeth.

Soon he felt the wet tip of the man’s cock rubbing against his belly. Zeb pressed him closer, spreading his hands to feel a round, muscular ass. The man tried to lick Zeb’s neck, making his fur wet and sticky, which Zeb found uncomfortable. Instead, he redirected the man’s attention, and his roving hands, to the backs of his ears, encouraging him to caress and scratch at his sweet spot until he was breathing hard against the man’s neck, grinding up into his ass, still separated by the thin fabric of their underwear.

“Off,” the man said, commanding, as he stood up and took off his underwear in a hurried movement. Zeb grinned at the man’s eagerness and took his time removing his own boxers, savoring the hungry gaze of the man as his cock bobbed out, dark purple, ribbed, and thicker than the human average.

“Like what you see, hmm? You can touch it if you want,” Zeb said, smirking.

The man was in his lap again in record time, long fingers wrapped around his cock and pumping eagerly. The man’s mouth opened in a surprised gesture that Zeb would have totally laughed at if he wasn’t so distracted by the man’s firm grip already. He managed to gasp out, still smirking, “People are always – asking about it – it’s a kinda legend – among these circles – and it’s true.”

“Lasat males self-lubricate. I think I’d heard about it. And… is it sort of… vibrating?” The man asked, voice awed.

Zeb chuckled softly and snaked a hand between their bodies to stroke at the man’s cock.

“D’you want it in you?” Zeb whispered against the man’s ear. The man shivered and gasped, “Yeah, just– can I…?”

“You wanna taste? Go ahead,” said Zeb, and the man didn’t need another word – he was on his knees in a second. Zeb watched his expression as he gave a first, experimental lick. Some of his hookups had loved the taste. Others, not so much. The man winced, perhaps because of the intensity of the taste – much acrider than that of other species, humans included – but to Zeb’s surprise, after a few more licks the man swallowed him confidently, moving his tongue and mouth around him with increasing confidence, until Zeb was twitching and gripping the man’s hair too tightly.

 “S’rry,” muttered Zeb, as soon as he realized, letting go. The man drew back and stood up with shaky legs, wiping the excess saliva and slick that was dripping down his lips. Zeb gripped his cock tightly at the sight, already close, and his hand came out wet. The man didn’t need to be told: he climbed on Zeb’s lap, and guided Zeb’s fingers to his hole. He winced as the first digit went in, and Zeb rearranged himself and the man carefully, trying to regain his breath as he slowly opened the man up.

“That’s enough,” gasped the man, tapping Zeb on the shoulder. “I’m ready.”

“You sure? Don’t want to hurt you,” said Zeb, looking into his eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” the man said, holding his gaze. His skin was pinkish and glistened with sweat, and Zeb didn’t ask twice. He lay down on the bed and let the man guide his cock into his entrance, taking in slow at first, as the wide girth of Zeb’s cock breached his tight entrance. When Zeb was fully sheathed, the man shuddered with his whole body, closing his eyes against the onslaught of sensation.

Humans were more sensitive than Lasats, Zeb remembered, and surely the slicked-up, ribbed, softly vibrating Lasat cock was a bit too much, especially for a first time.

So he let the man set the pace, even though Zeb was dying to let go, take hold of the man’s hips and just fuck him wild and rough. The man was slow and careful of the unfamiliar girth and ridges, but the slick made movement easier, and soon the man was braced with both arms against Zeb’s shoulders, fucking himself on Zeb’s cock in a smooth, steady rhythm. It was fast and good, but tortuously still not enough, and Zeb couldn’t help gripping the man’s hips tightly, though he held back from actually pushing in at the pace he craved.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Zeb gasped, and the man locked eyes with him for a moment, a strange and unidentified emotion in his eyes, before he closed them, as he rammed himself up and down on Zeb’s cock roughly a couple more times. The man shuddered and came with a quiet moan, staining the blankets and Zeb’s belly and chest. Taking a firmer hold of the man’s hips, Zeb kept thrusting hard, shaking and groaning, until he came, his loose limbs falling heavily on the bed.

The man carefully extracted himself and lay down beside Zeb, panting.  Zeb stretched himself out on the bed lazily, already feeling drowsy.

“That was… I thought it’d be good. But it was – much better than I expected,” said the man, voice relaxed and bright. Zeb turned around and saw the dimples were firmly in place.

He smirked at the man. “Not bad yourself,” he said.

“Hm. I do try. Oh. I just realized – I didn’t even ask your name,” the man said, swiftly turning to look at Zeb with wide eyes.

He looked so earnest that Zeb couldn’t hold back his laughter, and the man started to chuckle after a few seconds. They looked at each other and laughed, feeling the bed shaking beneath them.

When they stopped, the man was thoughtful. “I’m not sure if we can use our names or not. Last time, I was introduced to some people, but I never knew if they were using their real names or aliases,” he said.  

Zeb grunted in reply. The man kept staring at him, waiting for an answer, so he forced himself to speak. “Aliases. Most people. As far as I know.”

“Oh. I see. What’s your alias, then?” the man asked.

“Hmm. Not sure. Most people here know me as the Lasat. Some call be Big Boy,” Zeb said, trying to concentrate on not falling asleep.

The man chuckled. “Big Boy? Imaginative. Well then, you can call me Kay,” the man said.

“Fine. Kay. M’sorry. Very sleepy. Y’can use the ‘fresher, or go if you want to. I’ll just take a short nap,” Zeb muttered.

“Oh... fine, then. I’ll just go then,” said the man, as he gingerly got up and picked up his clothes from the floor. Zeb managed to stay awake long enough to call out to him before he left the room.

“Kay. Ask for me, whenever you’re around,” he said.

The man smiled, back in his trader’s outfit, though his hair was still messy and his skin flushed. “Same here. I’ll see you around I guess,” he said, closing the door. Zeb was already snoring peacefully.

 

Afterwards, in another world far from the comforting anonymity of the Club, Zeb didn’t realize that the ISB Agent with a stolen bo-rifle he’d confronted was Kay, the dimples-and-sideburns man from the 4 Hearts Club.  Only when it was long over and he was lying down in his bunk, fuming silently at his defeat at the hands of the Imperial, did he suddenly remember where he’d seen the Agent’s face before.

He felt bile rise in his throat, fury and betrayal quickly following his initial disbelief. He growled so loudly that Ezra woke with a gasp in the bunk above. 

“What’s wrong?” Ezra asked, alarmed.

Zeb got a hold of himself. “Nothing. Go back to sleep,” Zeb said, and lay down on the bunk again with a sigh. There was nothing he could do about it, now. He wondered what he’d do if he ever found Agent Kallus in the Club again. He wondered if he should go back at all.

He couldn’t possibly know that Agent Kallus had recognized him on sight, and in that moment, he was looking out at the stars from an Imperial Cruiser, wondering the exact same thing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy MayDay; here's the next chapter! I hope you like it. And no worries, slowly but surely I'll get to the end of this fic.

The second time they locked eyes with each other at the Club, they both tensed immediately, instinct screaming at them to fight, hands twitching toward their missing weapons.

A second later, Zeb felt a menacing presence at his back, and he saw from the corner of his eye that the usually amiable bartender was watching their exchange with a steely gaze. Across the room, another of the repurposed assassin droids that worked as security guards was standing behind Kallus. He knew without being told that this would be their only warning.

With a last glare at the Agent, Zeb took a steadying breath and purposefully turned around, ducking into one of the small dance halls, a darkened room full of spicy smoke and thrumming beats. Not Zeb’s preferred place at the Club, but he wasn't going to waste one of the precious few chances he had to escape to Nar Shaddaa. The rules applied to both of them, after all. They were both safe from each other, forced to a temporary truce.

Zeb danced half-heartedly, doing his best not to think about Kallus, the next room over, getting drunk or flirting or going to someone’s room. He drank something too sweet for his taste that a Bothan offered, was turned down by a lazily dancing female Ryn, and was pulled towards a Togruta that was clearly drugged out of his mind. His blank gaze unnerved Zeb so much that he quietly extricated himself. Sighing, he left the dance hall. He was in need of a good drink.

He was sitting at the bar in his usual spot, moodily drinking his favorite NaJedhan liquor, pulpy and sour-tasting, when Kallus plopped up on the seat beside him.

Zeb growled, instinctively, and Kallus raised his hands in a quelling gesture. Zeb's glare was lost as Kallus ordered a shot of Corellian whisky for himself.

“What d'ya want? Why don’t you just... stay away?" Zeb growled out.

Kallus drank carefully and answered without turning his head, only looking at him through the corner of his eye. “I was going to. But I couldn't stop thinking... we had fun, last time,” he said.

Zeb snorted. “I didn’t know who you were last time.”

“I didn’t know who you were either. But that’s not who we are here. Here, I’m just Kay. We're just two guys who can have a good time together,” Kallus said as he turned to look at Zeb, and only a tightness around his mouth betrayed his nervousness.

Zeb drank deeply. He was going to tell Kallus to get lost, and Kallus would have to accept it. But then he noticed a small detail – Kallus throwing a sidelong glance at Zeb's drink and grimacing, a brief, private expression. Zeb remembered the day they'd met, how "Kay" had choked at the first gulp, how he hadn’t really taken more than a few tentative sips after that.  Then, all of a sudden, the recollections he'd been trying hard to suppress, for a few hours, or maybe for months, came to him as clear as if they’d happened minutes ago- the sight of Kallus sucking his cock, red-faced, wet-lipped, and loving it, the feel of his mouth, his choked moans as Zeb touched and teased and fucked him.

Through the sudden tightness in his pants, his voice strangled by it, Zeb managed to ask, "You're propositioning me?"

“Yes,” Kallus replied, confident.

“That’s insane,” Zeb said.

Kallus just shrugged and shot Zeb a wry smile. Looking at him in the dim light of the bar, dressed in civilian clothes, a small dimple at the corner of his mouth, Zeb had a moment in which he was looking at Kay, not Agent Kallus from the ISB, and he felt a sweet warmth pooling in his belly. He couldn’t reconcile the man in front of him with the ISB Agent who’d been a constant thorn in the side of his crew for months. Maybe he’d just confused the two of them. Maybe Kallus had a twin.

_Yeah, right_.

Zeb growled as an answer. Kallus merely finished off his drink and plonked the tumbler down on the bar.

“Room 105. I’ll be waiting,” he said, before turning his back and stalking out.

Zeb snorted. “Cheeky bastard.”

He wasn’t going to go. It had never been his intention to go. But the images from their last hookup kept flashing before his eyes and would not go away, and finally, Zeb put down his glass. “Karabast,” he growled, before getting up and following after Kallus.

Behind Zeb’s back, the bartender hid a smile behind her dishrag.

 

 

Kallus opened the door with a sly half-smile and nothing but a tank top and briefs. Zeb looked around the room, almost expecting to find a stormtrooper squad. Kallus noticed his glance and snorted derisively. Zeb growled out, in warning, “Hope you like it rough.”

Kallus faced him head-on, his smile widening into something feral and dangerous. “Do you?” He growled back.

Their bodies hit each other like magnets clashing together, pushing and pulling, a physical struggle that wasn’t quite a fight. Kallus tore open Zeb’s jumpsuit and Zeb raked his claws along Kallus’ back. With a grip that would be bruising for a human, Kallus pulled Zeb’s hips to his, rubbing against him shamelessly. Zeb grabbed Kallus’ ass beneath his briefs, squeezing, and felt rather than heard Kallus moan into his chest.

Kallus’ hands found and freed Zeb’s cock, as Zeb removed Kallus’ briefs so forcefully that he heard them tear. Zeb grinned unrepentant at Kallus’ indignant scowl, tugging out the rest of the briefs and dropping them on the floor. Kallus pushed him into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. For a few seconds, Zeb laid back against the wall, feeling the other’s hands on him as he regained his breath. Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth on Kallus’ neck, biting hard and careless, breathing in the man’s scent, sweat and increasing desperation. Kallus’ surprised gasp was higher-pitched than normal, and it made Zeb groan, suddenly desperate for more.

In a single brutal movement, Zeb turned them around, pressing Kallus face-first to the wall, stretching his body along the man’s muscular back. Scratching with sharp claws the inside of Kallus’ thighs, he spread his legs as wide as they’d go, noticing the minute trembles that shook the other man as he did so. And then Zeb hesitated. He wanted to just move in, but he was usually a considerate lover, and he was aware that he could easily hurt a human this way.

“What are you waiting for, a written requisition?” Kallus asked, sharply.

Zeb knocked Kallus against the wall with a growl, nipping the back of his neck in warning.

“Are you in a hurry? I could take my time, y’know. Open y’up nice and slow, much slower than last time, until you’re begging for it on your knees. Would you like that?” he asked, breathing on the back of Kallus’ ear, savoring his full-body shiver.

 “There’s no need for that. Just go ahead,” Kallus gasped out.

When Zeb lined up and pushed in, he understood why.

“Been getting ready, have you? Thinking of me much?” He panted as Kallus took him in smoothly, accommodating his whole girth with only a bit of resistance. Kallus answered only in a broken, panting laugh, which Zeb delighted in turning into a moan by pushing in, hard.

“Fuck, still so tight,” gasped Zeb, and getting a firm grip of the human’s hips, he started up a fast, brutal, punishing rhythm, allowing himself to just take what he wanted. Distantly, he was aware that Kallus was panting hard and moaning out indistinguishable words, his legs and arms trembling from the effort of holding his weight, his head occasionally banging against the wall in what had to be at least a bit painful. But Kallus wasn’t complaining and Zeb wasn’t in the mood to care.

Zeb’s thighs were aching before long, and his belly fur had an uncomfortable wet patch from the sweat dropping from Kallus’ back and shoulders. Bracing his trembling forearm against the wall, Kallus pumped his own cock one, two, three times, and was suddenly coming, making a chocked sound, knees bending boneless. Zeb put a long arm around his waist to hold him up, already fucking into him with no rhythm, fumbling desperately for a few seconds until he felt his own release, muscles spasming and going weak. No longer able or willing to hold Kallus’ weight, he dropped him to the floor and held himself up against the wall.

 

When his mind cleared somewhat, he saw Kallus kneeling on the floor, his face turned up, eyes closed, regaining his breath. He was red-faced, hair mussed and sweaty, and his thighs were glistening with slick and Zeb’s come. He’d left some marks that stood out violent-red against the man’s pale skin, bite marks down his neck and shoulders, scratches down his back, some on the insides of his thighs. Spent as he was, Zeb felt his cock twitch weakly at the sight.

Resting his head against the wall, Kallus opened his eyes slowly, drinking in the sight of the Lasat standing over him. Zeb stepped away. He hadn’t even taken off his own jumpsuit fully, and now it was wet and uncomfortable on his skin. He noted the tear he’d have to get the droids to mend before he headed back. He was beginning to feel drowsy, but Kallus’ presence forced him to stay alert.

Gingerly, Kallus got up and headed to a small conservator at the corner of the room, taking out one of the overpriced bottled beverages inside. Without looking back, he threw a bottle over his shoulder, which Zeb almost fumbled, his reflexes still a bit slow.

“What…?” muttered Zeb, confused.

“Stim drink. Not the best-tasting drink, but it’ll rehydrate you and keep you from falling asleep on your feet,” Kallus explained, already gulping down some of the liquid. He turned to face Zeb, stark naked, examining him critically.

He gestured to Zeb’s torn jumpsuit. “You should take that off. Get comfortable,” he said.

At Zeb’s confused expression, Kallus sighed and tartly explained, “I’ve still got time. I’d like to go another round. If you can take it,” he added.

Zeb snorted. “If _you_ can take it, more like,” he bristled. 

“Excellent. Make yourself at home,” said Kallus, with a smug smile, as he disappeared into the ‘fresher.

It took Zeb a few seconds to realize he’d been tricked. With a growl, he conceded defeat and opened up the drink. It tasted like liquid ration bars but did the trick, dissipating his grogginess, which made him more aware of the wet patches on his jumpsuit. He took it off and stretched with a sigh. He sat down on the bed and then fell back, resting and luxuriating in the feel of the soft sheets, even if they did smell a lot like-

He opened his eyes to see Kallus, standing on the doorway to the ‘fresher, a lit cigarette on his lips, looking at him intently.

Zeb raised an eyebrow. Kallus shrugged in response, still looking at the Lasat’s body, spread out on the bed.

“This brings me back,” said Kallus, as he put down the cigarette and stepped towards the bed.

Zeb again thought about Kallus on his knees, his mouth open as wide as it could go around Zeb’s cock. Kallus was still naked, the scratches and bitemarks still bright on his skin, his cock already at half-mast.

Though a part of him still wouldn’t relax in Kallus’ presence, his body felt pleasantly loose and newly interested, his fur prickling as Kallus kneeled over him like a predator about to strike. Unthinking, Zeb moved one of his feet and pulled on Kallus’ leg, tripping him onto his chest. He realized his mistake a second later – the position felt uncomfortably intimate, suddenly skin against fur, Kallus’ startled breath falling directly into Zeb’s lips.

The Imperial solved it by sliding off Zeb’s chest to lie at his side, still close enough to reach out a hand and stroke Zeb’s hardening cock. With any other partner, it’d be a pleasant, relaxing moment. With Kallus leaning down over him, handling his cock in an efficient but detached way, his face intense, it was disquieting.

His cock disagreed and was soon rock-hard and aching, and without taking his eyes from Zeb’s, Kallus brought his slick-shining fingers to his mouth, tasting Zeb’s slick and pre-come.

“Ready?” Kallus asked him, a slightly raised brow, and Zeb replied by slipping his leg between Kallus’ and rubbing, before pushing himself up and settling between Kallus’ spread legs. Lying back on the bed, legs spread wide shamelessly, body ravaged and deceivingly vulnerable, Kallus was a sight. His eyes, for just a moment, flashed with something like fear as the Lasat loomed over him, and he hissed, sensitive, as Zeb entered him again.

He took his time, now, softly moving in and out, giving Kallus time to feel the soft vibrations of his cock, enjoying the tight warmth under him. From this position, even if Kallus closed his eyes or averted his face, Zeb could see every change in his expression, from a minor discomfort that required an adjustment of position, to the way he bit his lip to prevent from crying out as Zeb went as deep as he could and circled his hips, feeling the vibrations intensify.

“D’ya- get off… on this?” Zeb gasped out, as he continued fucking Kallus into the bed. “Me being… a Lasat?”

Kallus didn’t reply, but he stopped biting back his moans, and as Zeb looked into his eyes, he saw Kallus let go, face suddenly unguarded and vulnerable, full of fear and an intense, restless desire. Just like that, Zeb came, hard and almost painful, ears twitching madly.  

He didn’t even notice Kallus grunting his own release. Zeb toppled on top of the Imperial, who pushed him off roughly. As he remembered the last time they'd ended up like this, he couldn't help a warm wave of affection rising in his chest. Thankfully, Kallus' attitude soon dispelled the feeling. Worn out but still precise, the Agent got up from the bed and headed to the ‘fresher. Without bothering to look back, Kallus said sharply, “You don’t have to be a gentleman. See yourself out.”

Zeb growled at the dismissal, but didn’t hesitate. He quickly put on his jumpsuit and left. He wanted a nap and perhaps one more drink before he headed back.

Once outside the boundaries of the Club, Zeb refused to think about what they did that day as anything other than a fantasy. As much as he’d enjoyed the sex, and the thought of having Agent Kallus at his mercy, he knew that out there they were real enemies in a war. It was entirely possible that one of them would fall at the hands of the other.

And there was no changing that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Bahryn

The events at Bahryn… didn’t really change anything. Zeb was still a Rebel, Kallus an Imperial. Or so Zeb told himself afterwards, trying to dispel nagging thoughts and memories.

But the next time he found Kallus at the Club, he was instantly, shockingly aware that for Kallus, at least, something had changed.

He’d never seen the ISB Agent drunk before, but there he was, his hair messed up and his cheeks red and blotchy, doing shots with a group of Barabels, laughing too loudly and allowing the Barabels to fondle him. The sight instantly alarmed Zeb, and not only because of this particular group of Barabels – there was something uncomfortably familiar about Kallus’ hunched shoulders, his high-pitched, almost hysterical laughter, the way his hands were trembling too much, his drink splashing on the unbuttoned front of his tunic.

He recognized it from the dark days before finding Kanan and joining the Ghost crew, when the loss of Lasan, his failure, shame and guilt almost killed him. When he’d spend his waking hours losing himself in whatever distraction was at hand – drinking, fighting, fucking.

It was desperation.

Suddenly Kallus raised his head from a conversation and caught sight of Zeb. The way his whole face lit up in unguarded joy compounded his alarm, and he approached the group carefully.

The Barabels glared at him while Kallus drunkenly tried to stand up and tripped on the legs of the stool. Zeb caught him and Kallus, perhaps out of nausea, remained in that position, resting his forehead lightly on Zeb’s shoulder and mumbling something. Pricking up his ears, he managed to catch the end of it: “…been here three times already, I thought that was it…”

Zeb scratched his neck, feeling out of his depth. “Hey, uh. You okay?” he asked, aware of the piercing glares the Barabels were shooting him. He sent them a nasty glare of his own over Kallus’ head.

Kallus raised his head enough to smile at Zeb in a weak way. “Yeah… great. I’ve made new friends. They’re… s’rry for my pronunciation, Teshok, Neder, and uh, Grolks?”

The Barabels flashed their sharp incisors at Zeb, glaring at him to back off. Zeb ignored them and smiled winningly at Kallus. First things first, he had to get him out of there. “Say, would you like to go somewhere more private? Just, um, the two of us?” he asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Kallus replied, his openly flirty look making Zeb stare for a few long seconds. He shook himself and turned to go, but a sharp, wirily muscled hand on his arm stopped him. The Barabel was shorter than him but was incredibly strong, and the look he was giving Zeb could kill.

“Friend… you are taking away our new beau, so soon? Why not stay a while? If you prefer, we could all have fun together,” he said, in a sibilant coaxing voice.

Kallus stopped in his tracks and gave the Barabel a considering look. Before he could say anything, though, Zeb intervened, “No, sorry. I don’t like to share,” he growled out.

His glare could match any Barabel’s, anytime. With a lot of disgruntled hissing and muttered curses, the Barabels backed away and Zeb practically dragged Kallus out into the narrow hallway leading down to the private rooms.

“Watch out with those guys. They’re bad news,” Zeb warned Kallus.

“They were very friendly,” Kallus muttered, looking around in his tunic and pants pockets.

“Yeah. Too friendly. You should stay away from them,” Zeb said, but Kallus wasn’t paying attention, too busy trying to extract a room card from the inside pocket of his tunic. He slapped it on Zeb’s chest, saying, “It’s 208 tonight. Let’s go.” And he turned and walked imperiously down the hallway, his unsteady gait ruining the impression. Zeb sighed deeply, before calling out, “Kallus? The lift is this way.”

Zeb led the way to Kallus’ room, and once there, he headed straight for the water dispenser in the ‘fresher to get two large glasses. When he got back, Kallus was sitting on the bed, taking off his stained tunic and pants with clumsy fingers. Zeb thrust a glass of water into his hand. “Drink,” he ordered, and Kallus obeyed immediately, an instinctive reaction to the commanding tone.

When he drained the glass and put it aside, he went straight for the zipper in Zeb’s suit. He’d have slipped it down in a swift movement if he wasn’t so uncoordinated. Zeb quickly batted his hands aside and took a step back.

“What’re you waiting for? Clothes _off_ ,” said Kallus, irritated.

Zeb scratched his neck fur. “Sorry. You’re a little bit… too drunk, tonight. I should’a been clearer, but I just needed to get you away from those no-good Barabels,” he explained.

Kallus huffed. “Of course you’re too _noble_ to take advantage,” he said, scathingly.

“I am,” Zeb said, simply, not taking the bait.

“I kinda wish you weren’t,” Kallus mumbled, so low that even Zeb’s sensitive ears struggled to pick it up.

And then Kallus’ gaze rose slightly from his own hands. With the ease of those drunkenly distracted, he pleaded, “Can I just suck you off?”

If it hadn’t been for the desperation still shining bright in Kallus’ eyes, it would have been a tempting offer. “No,” Zeb said, firmly, offering the second glass. “Drink more water.”

“Ugh. I could have had fun with those Barabels. They offered a foursome…”

Zeb snorted. “Those guys are too clever by half. They have a thing for humans particularly, you know,” he warned.

“Uh-huh. They said,” Kallus replied.

“Not like you’re thinking. For human flesh,” Zen said, flashing his sharp canines.

“Bantha shit,” replied Kallus, just as quickly.

“They’re careful with the rules, see. They ply you with drinks and flattery. They take you to a room and let you have your fun. And then they ask, very polite, very insistent, if you can let them do what they really like… And if you give in…”

“They actually eat you?” asked Kallus, horrified.

“Oh no, not all of you. Just a part. A couple fingers. The end of a tail. Other parts you’ll sorely miss,” Zeb said, matter-of-factly.

Kallus looked pale, now. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t be the first one to fall to their ways. Most of the old hands know what’s up with them, though, and give them a wide berth,” Zeb explained.

“Did that happen to you?” Kallus asked.

Zeb gave him a roguish grin. “Still got all my parts intact, haven’t I?”

“You didn’t exactly answer the question,” Kallus said, with a frown. But he let go with a sigh as Zeb went back to the dispenser to get him more water.

“This wasn’t how I thought this would go,” Kallus muttered as he slowly sipped from the glass Zeb offered.

“Well, what did you want?” asked Zeb, sitting beside the human on the bed.

Kallus’s shoulders slumped forwards, and he covered his face with his hands, not quickly enough to hide his pained grimace. Zeb was completely at a loss – he wasn’t good with others being emotional, not even when it was the people from his crew who knew and trusted him. What could he do with his enemy turned occasional hookup turned reluctant ally back in that icy moon? Up to now, their whole relationship within the Club had been purely physical – a channeling of pleasure and hatred together. They’d never really talked before, not until Bahryn.

Zeb stared awkwardly until Kallus, unprompted, started talking, choppily, as if he was wrenching the words out of himself with great effort.

“I just... Nothing’s changed. It really hasn’t. But. It doesn’t feel the same anymore. I never realized… it’s so cold, the system, everyone, things that I always took for granted now seem so… it’s all been rooted out, the warmth, empathy… You know the worst part? I used to be so sure. Of who I was, what I was working for, what sacrifices needed to be made. Even if some of the things we were doing were awful, terrible things, I always felt sure they were done for a higher cause, that in the end we would accomplish something… and now, suddenly, I’m questioning everything, every single thing, and… what if all my answers are wrong, have always been wrong? I just keep coming back to this feeling, I’ve got this sense of… being in debt. Of owing so much I’ll never be able to repay, and I don’t know what to do with this, I don’t know how to go back, how to get rid of it…” Kallus stopped speaking abruptly, and ran his hands through his hair in a gesture he must’ve repeated many times before that night. He remained silent, as if completely exhausted.

Slowly, cautiously, Zeb reached out a hand and squeezed Kallus’ shoulder, his arm, a soft soothing rhythm as the other man started to choke and sob in sudden, violent gulps. He waited patiently, in silence, as Kallus got a hold of himself and started taking deep breaths. Then he offered more water, and turned to face Kallus as the man slumped, almost against him.

“My situation was different, but… I understand guilt, and loss. And from what I know, sometimes questioning yourself is what you need. You can always learn and grow, and sometimes you end up doing things you never would’ve imagined you could do. Maybe you’ll discover that the person you’ve become is a better one than who you used to be. But it’s gonna be your choice. Who you are, or who you’ll be from now on, only get to decide that,” said Zeb.

Kallus looked at him, thoughtfully, before nodding and sighing. “What a mess,” he muttered.

Zeb bumped shoulders with him. “Hey… ‘s not so bad. Just wait till the hangover kicks in,” he said. Kallus grimaced.

There was a long moment of silence, but if felt lighter, somehow. Finally Kallus looked up at Zeb, somewhat shyly, and he was reminded of their first meeting, his very first impression of “Kay”.

“So,” said Kallus, “there really is no way to convince you…?”

Zeb snorted. “Again? Listen, I’m not… here for long, this time. I just really wanted a few drinks,” he said.

“Oh,” sighed Kallus, a bit chagrined. “Well. Sorry. For…” he gestured, a bit helplessly.

The Lasat decided to take it as an apology for the night, only. He rubbed his neck, muttering, “Yeah, well. Don’t sweat it. There’s always next time.”

“I suppose,” said Kallus, and with that both were silent for a while, the shadow of reality pressing against them – how or when they’d see each other again, inside or outside the Club.

“I should go,” said Zeb, standing up. Kallus nodded at that, not looking up.

Zeb hesitated at the door, feeling strange. “Kallus,” he said, turning to look at the human, who looked up upon hearing his name. “Take care,” he said, and opened the door to leave.

He was stopped halfway out by Kallus’ voice saying his name.

“Garazeb.” He turned to look at Kallus, who hesitated a second before speaking. “I- my next leave is in 99 days. It’s a long time from now, but… l’ll be here. If you can make it.”

Zeb looked at Kallus for a long moment. “If I can make it,” he finally said, not making any promises. Kallus nodded, understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex this chapter, haha, bad for a porn fic perhaps, but they needed to talk some things out. 
> 
> Uuuuh. So in the end I divided the last chapter in two, and I'm posting the first part now and the second, I will post once I'm finished with the edits. Sorry for the long wait between chapters! Uuuh my life is kinda exhausting at the moment and I haven't had that much time to dedicate to writing. But I'm on my slow way to finishing this!! My goal is to finish this fic and the epilogue/coda for it before the next season premieres.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a little before 3.17 "Through Imperial Eyes"

What was the name of a casual, pre-arranged meeting for pleasure…? Was it…?

Zeb shook his head, letting the nagging thought drift away. Instead, he recalled Sabine’s report and later, Kanan and Ezra’s encounter with Fulcrum on Lothal. How much had Kallus’ loyalties changed? And if they had, what did that mean? He had no answers, yet. He wasn’t even sure if he’d find any at the Club.

Ears twitching restlessly, looking around carefully as if he was in an unknown hangar bay, he entered the Club. He really hadn’t known if he’d be able to make it at all. Rebel life was unpredictable, plans constantly falling apart and taking longer than expected, emergencies coming up almost daily. This time, however, repairs and restocking had to be made, plans got postponed, and Zeb found himself with an opportunity to go on one of his “excursions”.

He still arrived almost two days late, though. Kallus wasn’t at the bar, in the dance areas or the smoking hall. After casually going around the place a couple of times, he finally returned to the bar and sat down heavily.

“Why the gloomy face, handsome?” the bartender asked, grinning widely.

“I was looking for… someone, but it seems I’m too late,” Zeb said, shrugging.

“Ah. Would that be a human guy, Coruscanti accent, excellent facial hair?” she leaned in to whisper.

Zeb’s ears perked up, and he looked into the bartender’s dark glinting eyes to say, “Have you seen him? Is he here?”

She quickly blinked with her two sets of eyelids as she passed him a note. “He told me to give this to you, what, four or five hours ago,” she said, and Zeb lost no time in opening the note. There, in clear, blocky handwriting, was a short message: “ _Room 313_.”

“You’re welcome,” the bartender called out as Zeb hurried out. He turned back for a brief second to give her a sheepish smile and a thankful wave, not even seeing her shake her head in amusement.

Even though he slowed down a bit when he got to the right hallway, he didn’t allow himself to pause for a second, pressing the call button to 313 immediately.

Seconds ticked by, as Zeb took deep breaths, ears twitching. He pressed the button again, impatiently. The door opened, the shadows of the room parting as a pink-cheeked, bare-chested Kallus appeared, mussed hair, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

They looked at each other for a long, breathless moment.

“Hey,” muttered Zeb.

“Hey,” Kallus replied, in a soft voice.

Zeb rubbed his neck. “So, uh… You’re not having drinks at the bar today?” he asked.

“No. I didn’t fancy a repeat of last time,” Kallus said, crossing his arms.

“Yeah,” Zeb muttered, and fell silent. His earlier thoughts started creeping in. Those previous times, they’d found each other by chance, and this pre-arranged meeting suddenly felt jarring. Too real.

“Do you want to…? Or… shall we just... go have a few drinks?” Kallus finally offered, hesitant.

“Drinks is fine. If you’re not in a hurry,” Zeb said.

“Give me a minute,” said Kallus. He was back soon, and they headed back to the main area in a mildly awkward silence.

Zeb watched as Kallus came back from the bar with their drinks, concentrating on not spilling much while sidestepping dancing couples and other patrons. He was wearing a tight-fitting sleeveless grey shirt, and with his hair hastily combed over, fluffed out and a bit messy, he gave a very different impression than the harsh ISB Agent who had pursued the Rebels for so long. He looked pretty striking, drawing some looks from several patrons.

He gladly took a long drink of Kelpu while Kallus watched over his own glass of ale. Zeb’s happy sigh was followed by Kallus’ own grimace. “I don’t know how you can stand that vile drink,” Kallus said.

Zeb snorted. “I don’t know any humans who like it, but Lasats have a stronger constitution. That thing you’re drinking is like light bubbly juice to me,” he replied.

“Well, it’s a classic. Used to drink it all the time at the Academy,” Kallus said, shrugging.

“Aha! More drunken misadventures?” Zeb half-grinned, unsure how much he could tease Kallus.

Kallus winced in reply. “Not really. I could hold my liquor well. At least back then. I was usually the one taking care of the others.”

“Usually,” smirked Zeb.

Kallus blushed. “In my defense, that day I was drinking something much stronger than my usual fare. They said it was ‘Poison Run’? Something like that,” he said.

Zeb straightened out. “That’s a very strong drink – mostly for reptilian species. You’re lucky I got you out in time, that stuff might’ve made you blind,” he said.

“Oh, it felt like that,” Kallus said, wincing at the memory of the miserable hangover.

“No doubt,” Zeb said, serious. And then he shrugged. “But hey, whatever you survive’s a lesson, right? That’s not even close to the worst that’s happened round here. Have you heard about the Corellian professor and the Black Ichor?” Zeb said, leaning in, grinning.

“No,” said Kallus.

“Well, you might know, and if not, you should, that Black Ichor is a cocktail specifically created for Hutts – it’s the only thing that can get a Hutt drunk in less than half an hour. So for any other species, it kicks in fast and hard – and it leaves you even faster and harder. So, one day, this Corellian professor came in, claiming to be a connoisseur...”

As Zeb told the familiar story to an increasingly horrified Kallus, the fact they had been enemies for a long time started to slip away from his mind, until, at the end, looking at Kallus’ flushed face contorted in honest, uncontrollable laughter, it was as if he’d been transported to those long evenings a lifetime ago, surrounded by his comrades in the Honor Guard, drinking and sharing dirty stories.

And when the laughter finally ceased, Kallus’ smile remained, and there was warmth in his eyes. Zeb felt no awkwardness as he asked, “How are you feeling now?”

Kallus looked away for a moment, and he let out a long breath. His smile had turned slightly bitter when he turned to face Zeb. “I made my choice, at last. So in a way, I’m feeling better. My conscience is still far from appeased, of course. But I’m doing what I can.”

“So it’s true, then? You’re-”

“Shush. Eyes and ears everywhere. But whatever they told you, it’s probably true.”

Zeb looked at him for a moment, considering. Then he sighed and let the matter go, turning to look at the patrons in the Club around him, and they finished their drinks in a more restful, comfortable silence.

They started on the second round with small talk about Nar Shaddaa, until Kallus asked, “Who introduced you to the Club?”

Zeb shrugged. “Some Nautolan smuggler, more a drinking buddy than an acquaintance. Said this was the place to go for a quick, fun something that didn’t end with you running away from pirates or stormtroopers while pulling up your underpants. Heh. It only happened once or twice,” he added, grinning at Kallus’ raised eyebrow.

Then he shrugged, becoming more serious. “S’not like I had anything better to do, back then,” he muttered. Kallus also looked pained, but didn’t say anything.

Finally Zeb asked, to break the silence, “What about you? Whatever brought you here?”

It took a while for Kallus to start speaking, and his answer came slowly, in measured words and pauses.

“I grew up in the lower levels of Coruscant,” Kallus started. “My father died when I was very young, and my mother… she was never around much. So I spent a lot of time running around Level 2666 with a gang of local kids, and among them was a Duros called Vithi. We became best friends, stayed friends even after I was recruited for the Academy. I spent every leave I had with him. And things started to change between us… you know, _complications_ ,” he said, with a small, lopsided smile.

“Yeah,” Zeb muttered in reply.

“Eventually the other cadets noticed, and… it wasn’t pretty. My record was spotless. I’d worked so hard to be one of the top cadets in my class, I couldn’t… in the end, I broke it up, though it was… hard. I tried to, but I could never quite forget,” said Kallus, rubbing his face, avoiding Zeb’s gaze.

“And...?” Zeb asked, gently.

“Well, years later, I had my command, rising through the ranks, I ran into him in some space station in the Outer Rim. He was a travelling merchant, married, kids. He remembered me fondly, even after everything. He’s the one who introduced me to the Club. We both knew there wouldn’t be a next time. When we parted, I swore I’d never come back, and I spent years focusing on my career, until one day I just… couldn’t keep away, anymore. Maybe a part of me still hoped to find him here…” Kallus finished, and he was silent for a long moment, staring into the almost empty glass of ale.

In the silence, Zeb looked at him, long and hard. Then he drained his glass in one go, and stood up, holding out his hand to Kallus. “You ever dance here? C’mon, it’s fun.”

Kallus hesitated a moment, before taking his hand and rising to stand beside him.

They moved on the dancefloor, at first stiffly, and more loosely after a few songs. When a spirited jig started its first few beats, Zeb perked up.

“Hah! I actually know how to dance this one!” he said, and pulled Kallus to him, taking his hand in one of his and placing the other firmly in Kallus’ lower back, he moved them in a quick rhythm, back and forward and a turn, which was simple enough for Kallus to catch on quickly.

They finished the dance, out of breath and flushed, and still tightly wound around each other, hip to hip.

As Kallus smiled up at him, Zeb impulsively leaned down and nibbled lightly on the other man’s lower lip. Kallus let out a soft sigh, and just like that, they were kissing, slow and testing, seeing how their mouths fit against each other. When they separated, Zeb almost purred at the feeling of Kallus’ hand rubbing behind his ear.

“We could go to the room now,” Zeb whispered, lips almost touching Kallus’ ear.

“Sure,” Kallus replied, shivering.

 

 

They took their time, touching and kissing leisurely, allowing themselves to explore, and test the other’s sensitivity. Zeb was particularly fascinated with the trail of light freckles dusting Kallus’ chest and shoulders, touching lightly at first, then giving in the urge to lick and bite gently around the area. As his tongue brushed Kallus’ nipple, he felt the other man stifle a gasp, and grinned as he took the nub between his lips and bit down, sharply.

“Ow,” Kallus groaned.

“So sensitive,” he muttered. Kallus huffed out in reply and applied more pressure behind Zeb’s ears, which made him growl and nip Kallus’ neck. He was already rubbing his heavy cock against Kallus, who reached out and tried with some effort to stroke both of them at once, even though his hand couldn't quite close down on their combined girth. Zeb kissed him, sloppily, on the mouth, and Kallus bit down on the Lasat’s plump lower lip.

Zeb grabbed Kallus’ head, lightly, and moved his head a bit lower, exposing his long neck. “Bite here,” he said, indicating a spot between his neck and shoulder. Kallus bit, softly, testing.

“Harder,” said Zeb, and Kallus bit, as hard as he dared, to Zeb’s amused huff. “I’m not a kit. C’mon, aren’t you a warrior? Bite like you _mean_ it,” he said. Kallus, affronted, bit hard on the soft spot, feeling the flesh give beneath his teeth, pulse beating hard in the Lasat’s skin, and Zeb’s response was immediate - his whole body tensed and he let out a long groan. Under his palm, Zeb’s cock twitched and he felt it starting to vibrate gently.

“Kriff,” Kallus gasped out, and he couldn’t make himself wait any longer. Pushing a surprisingly pliable Zeb on his back, he bit down again on the same spot, and then moved down Zeb’s body, tracing his fur with lips and fingers, biting down on the softest spots, marveling at the incredibly silky feeling of the fur covering the Lasat’s stomach and further downwards. He took a moment longer to rub his face, delighted, against the soft insides of Zeb’s huge thighs, before Zeb groaned and called him a tease. Only then did Kallus finally take the tip of the gently vibrating cock in his mouth, sucking lightly.

Zeb breathed out a soft curse as Kallus tried to take more and more down his throat, slick running down the corners of his mouth. Kallus started moaning softly around Zeb’s cock, and even though Zeb was bucking under him, he took a hand off Zeb’s hips to rub his aching cock, desperate for friction.

“You really do like this, don’t you?” Zeb managed to mutter, which Kallus replied to with a hum which made Zeb throw his head back and gasp loudly.

“Kriff, stop! Or I’m gonna-” fingers trembling, Zeb pushed Kallus off, and the Imperial stood back, tongue wetting his swollen lips.

“Please do,” said Kallus, hoarsely.

“Yeah, but I’ve been wanting to do _this_ ,” Zeb replied, deftly reversing their positions, spreading Kallus with his back to the bed, wetting his hand with his own slick to open Kallus up.

It hadn’t even been a minute, by Zeb’s estimation, when Kallus huffed out, “I’m ready, go on.”

“Impatient, aren’t you?” Zeb grinned, teasing.

“Only for this,” Kallus replied, guiding Zeb in. Zeb groaned, his head against Kallus’, as he felt the tight, enveloping warmth around him. “Best feeling in the world,” Kallus muttered, almost to himself.

“Ruined you for other species already?” Zeb asked, rubbing Kallus’ cheek with his own.

“Maybe,” came the breathless reply.

Soon, they were both unable to speak - Kallus panting with his legs wrapped around Zeb, Zeb moaning as he moved, first in a soft, leisurely rhythm, which turned into something urgent and desperate as Zeb started to lose control.

Gasping, he pounded Kallus into the mattress, until he jerked and collapsed on top of him, breathing hard, body spasming.

“Hey… hey! Zeb… you’re crushing me,” came Kallus’ strangled voice, and Zeb with heavy arms moved to the side, slowly pulling out. Through the haze of his oncoming sleepiness, he felt Kallus taking himself in hand, and he sluggishly moved his hand to Kallus’ cock. After a few lazy movements, Kallus lost his patience and took Zeb’s hand in his, rubbing it hard against his leaking cock until he came, dripping over Zeb’s hand and his own belly. Zeb didn’t object to Kallus’ use of his hand, his eyes too heavy to keep open, able only to utter a single word: “...here?”

It took Kallus a while to understand, as he caught his breath, but then it finally clicked. “I’ll be here,” he whispered, to the Lasat that was already asleep at his side.

 

 

When Zeb woke up, Kallus was sitting up on the other end of the bed, recently cleaned up, stretched out legs brushing Zeb’s, gazing at him thoughtfully while sipping from a glass of water.

“You really go out like a rock, don’t you?” Kallus asked, amused, while Zeb blinked up at him muzzily.

Wordless, he offered the water to Zeb, who took it gladly and downed it in a gulp.

“How long was I…?” Zeb asked.

“53 minutes,” said Kallus.

“Still got time,” Zeb muttered, lazily trying to pull Kallus to him with his foot.

Kallus paused for a moment, looking down at Zeb’s foot over his calf, and when he looked up his expression was somber. “I’m afraid not very much. I need to leave soon, in fact,” he said.

“Aw, we were just getting started,” Zeb said, with a pout.

Kallus sighed. “I received an urgent message some minutes ago. My presence is requested. Probably… Hopefully just another dead end, but in any case, I should be there. They aren’t giving details over long-distance comm lines, but it must be pretty serious if they're interrupting my leave,” he said.

Zeb’s ears lowered in worry. “I probably should get going, too,” he said.

“Yes,” Kallus replied, rising and starting to collect his clothes.

“Kallus. Wait,” Zeb said, getting up from the bed heavily.

And suddenly, face to face with Kallus, whose expression was unguarded, if a bit anxious, words failed Zeb.

After a long second of blankness, he asked the first question that came to his mind. “What’s the plan, then?”

“What do you mean?” asked Kallus, frowning.

“I, er, I was just thinking… what’s your plan? You’re… you’re with us now, right?” He’d meant the last to be a statement, but it ended up sounding doubtful.

Kallus sighed and approached him. He looked into his eyes, expression dead serious, when he replied, “Zeb. Yes. Of course I’m with you. I promise you I’ll do all I can, for as long as I possibly can.”

“And what happens when- if your cover’s blown?” Zeb asked.

“I’m good at what I do. I’ll think of something,” Kallus said, confidently.

“Listen… we’ll do whatever we can to help,” Zeb said.

Kallus’ brow furrowed. “Why would you?”

Zeb scratched his head, confused. “Because… you’re one of us, now. Of course we’ll help you if we can.”

Kallus fell silent at that, surprised. Then he shook his head and gave a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

They got cleaned up and dressed in silence, something heavy weighing them down.

Zeb broke the silence as he zipped up his flightsuit. “Hey, Kallus… um… when’s your next leave?”

Kallus finished putting on his civilian jacket. He sighed deeply. “Actually… I’m not sure I can come back here anytime soon,” he said.

Zeb straightened up, alarmed despite himself. “What? Why’s that?”

“They’re tightening the leave regulations for all personnel, including higher-ranking officers. It’s a measure to flush out the spy in our ranks, of course. They even tried having me followed, this time,” he said, casually.

Zeb stared at him in alarm. Kallus quickly put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry! I lost the droid long before I came in the Club. And spending one’s leave in a cantina in Nar Shaddaa is, while disreputable, not actually that uncommon among the officers. It’s just… I’ve grown somewhat attached to this place. And I don’t want any more innocent blood on my conscience.”

“The Four Hearts are far from innocent and harmless,” Zeb remarked. “But I get your point. Then I guess… this is goodbye.”

“For the foreseeable future,” said Kallus, sighing.

There was a loaded silence, and then Zeb was advancing toward Kallus, until they were almost, but not quite, touching.

“Well then… best make it a good one,” he whispered, eyes full of intention.

Kallus shivered under his gaze but, before he could make a move toward Zeb’s lips, he found himself pressed against the room’s door.

“What are you-” he tried to ask, and gasped as Zeb got down on his knees in front of him, deftly unzipping the front of his merchant’s slacks. He hadn’t been hard, but under Zeb’s firm grip, he was aching, rock hard in less than a minute.

“We don’t have time to-” he stammered, trembling under Zeb’s fingers and his intense stare.

“Don’t worry, Agent. This won’t take long,” Zeb said, frustratingly calm and smug, right before he swallowed Kallus’ cock whole, up to the hilt, his large mouth and throat accommodating Kallus’ considerable girth without a problem.

Kallus moaned and involuntarily bucked into Zeb’s mouth, hastily muttering an apology afterwards. Zeb made a humming sound around his cock, which Kallus took to mean “don’t worry about it”, and letting his head fall forwards, he gripped Zeb’s head tightly. When Zeb’s large tongue wrapped around him, he couldn’t help but let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. He felt, rather than saw, Zeb smiling around him, and he flicked his ear in irritation. Zeb’s response was to start sucking and humming around him in earnest, until Kallus’ previous work cleaning up was undone, sweat was running down his chest, his neatly combed hair falling into his eyes.

Much sooner than he thought, he felt himself blacking out, coming in a single unexpected wave, knees trembling.

Zeb swallowed effortlessly and stepped back, allowing a completely spent Kallus to slide down to the floor. Startled, he saw Kallus blinking back tears as he regained his breath. Kneeling before him, Zeb gripped his shoulders, unsure what to do or say.

Silently, Zeb held him like that until Kallus’s breathing had calmed down, and his eyes were half-closed, watching him.

And then he leaned in. Instead of kissing him on the mouth, however, Zeb planted a soft, chaste kiss on his forehead.

He stood up and helped Kallus get up.

“I… thank you,” Kallus said, voice trembling. “Garazeb. Thank you,” he said, uttering those words as if they were the most important words he’d ever said, warmth and fear radiating from him.

“Take care, Kallus,” Zeb replied, quietly, ears lowered.

 

 

By the time they walked out of the shabby cantina where the entrance of the Four Hearts Club was hidden, each separately making their way off planet, they had resumed their identities, as a Lasat Rebel, there for a few drinks and easy fun, and as an ISB Agent on his very discreet leave, hiding his secrets under a cold face like a good Imperial officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done!! Finally!! I know I said I wanted to finish before the 15th of October but, alas, the deadline just whooshed past. In my defense, I've been working very long hours and ughh writing always takes much longer than expected. 
> 
> Tbh, I'm not entirely satisfied with the ending but I just can't think of what to add or take out, so here it is, imperfect as it may be. 
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed it!


End file.
